


in the end

by Areiton



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coda, Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On, Hurt Dean Winchester, M/M, Rituals, Witchcraft, spells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:28:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27702068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Areiton/pseuds/Areiton
Summary: He thinks, too, that it doesn’t matter. Cas dragged him from hell and stood at Dean’s side for a lifetime, fought through purgatory with him twice.The veryleastDean can do is retrieve him from the Empty.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 5
Kudos: 128





	in the end

In the end--he doesn't die. 

Maybe it's luck--the rebar missed his heart by millimetres, he's told later--or maybe it's that he's the new god's pseudo father, or maybe--well, he doesn't believe in fate, not anymore. But he doesn't die. They tell him later, Sam and Jodie, that he can't hunt anymore. and he doesn't say anything then, but the tears are from relief and guilt---not the fury and helplessness that they think it is.

He doesn’t die but he spends months in the hospital and on bedrest in the bunker, recuperating, and he decides that it’s not enough--

Not dying isn’t enough. 

~*~ 

Sam looks at him, sitting on his bed surrounded by books and lore, a pen caught between his teeth and his laptop open with notes and Miracle asleep on his toes, and says, “Dean?” 

He finishes transcribing a bit of ancient lore about Death and the Empty, and spits his pen out, looking up at Sam. 

“You can’t hunt,” he says, gentle, like he’s trying to remind Dean of his limits. There’s a gaggle of baby hunters backing Sam up when they go on a job, leaving Dean with the dog and a growing stack of recipe cards because stress baking is a thing he never knew about, so it’s not like he’s forgotten, not like he  _ can _ forget, but Sam seems like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop, and Dean is running out of places to look, so maybe--

He looks up at Sam and says, “I’m not hunting. I won’t. But I need to bring him back.” 

Something crosses Sam’s face, something like grief before it settles and relief brightens him, like a damn sunrise. 

“It’s about goddamn time,” he says, and turns to leave. 

Dean smiles, and waits. It takes less than five minutes for Sam to return, laden with a dozen books and a overflowing notebook, settling on the chair next to Dean’s bed, cracking it open. 

“So get this,” he says, and Dean thinks maybe everything will be ok.

~*~ 

It takes time. 

Not just the research. That is the easy part, even if it’s time consuming. It’s the rituals, the summoning. Sam has picked up enough tricks over the years from Rowena that it’s not like they have to find a witch. Kaia helps, her dreamwalker powers amplifying Sam’s spell and sometimes, when he’s drunk the fucking tea that tastes like ass and he sits while they chant over him and sage and incense wreath him, he can close his eyes, and almost see Castiel. 

~*~ 

The tattoos are done one night, binding and blinding spells worked into his skin with blood and bone and Sam’s steady head. 

They skirt his anti-possession tattoo and the handprint he inked into his shoulder the month he got out of the hospital, but they’re delicate and deep and cover his skin, and sometimes Dean wonders if Cas will love this version of him. 

He thinks, too, that it doesn’t matter. Cas dragged him from hell and stood at Dean’s side for a lifetime, fought through purgatory with him twice. 

The very  _ least _ Dean can do is retrieve him from the Empty. 

~*~ 

“I have to go,” he says, once, and it’s the only time that he thinks Sam will fight him. But only one of them can go, and it’s not a guarantee. “Sammy,” he says, and that’s it.

Sam nods. 

~*~ 

“Don’t take too long,” Jodie says, voice wet, when she hugs him. Kaia and Claire are standing nearby, the spell prepared, and there’s worry bright on the dreamwalker’s face, but resolution too. 

“We’ll be waiting when you both get back,” Sam says, and hugs him, and his heart twinges, just a little. 

Then the spell is being murmured, Kaia’s voice soothing and rich and Sam’s a familiar counterpart and he can feel his heartbeat slowing, the cold tugging at him and then he’s in a dark cold place. 

The Empty. 

~*~ 

It’s worse in ways, than Hell was. Hell was unrelenting and cruel, so much pain he broke under it and a desperate fear that couldn’t help but choke him. 

The Empty is...lonely. It’s cold and unrelenting and nothing, and he aches, to think of Castiel, his bright beautiful angel, so full of love and caring, trapped in this nothing. 

~*~ 

In the end, it’s not hard to find him. It takes time, but he’s guided by the dreamwalker and he’s protected by his brother’s spells and he’s bolstered by this--Cas is waiting for him. 

In the end, it’s not hard, and Dean crouches next to Castiel, sitting cross-legged and patient in the dark empty and Castiel blinks at him, and smiles, and he whispers, so soft Dean can only see the shape of it, “Hello, Dean.” 

In the end--it’s not. 

It’s not the end. 


End file.
